


Just a Bit of Luck

by mysid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: rs-small-gifts, F/M, Felix Felicis, M/M, Marauders' Era, Potions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 07:41:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9113164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysid/pseuds/mysid
Summary: When Remus suggests that winning over the person you fancy requires "a lot of luck," Sirius decides that Felix Felicis is the solution.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aclytie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aclytie/gifts).



> For LiveJournal's rs_smallgifts, Aclytie requested, "ill-disposed usage of Felix Felicis or any other potions." She also hoped for  
> "Reluctant! Remus" and "I-am-sexy! Sirius." I don't think I interpreted those wishes quite the way she way she meant them, but I did try to honor the request.

**Just a Bit of Luck**

His mother always said that magic could solve any problem, and although Sirius had realized that he did not believe anything his mother used to say to him, some lessons were too deeply ingrained to be erased. And so it was to magic he turned whenever he had a problem to solve. 

He simply had to find the _right_ form of magic to use. They'd wasted nearly a year on trying to find cures for lycanthropy until Remus had sat them all down and explained—very clearly and using very small words—that his parents had already exhausted _every_ supposed cure and _nothing_ worked. It had only been when they'd stopped trying to cure Remus and simply wondered how they could help him deal with his condition that James had had the most brilliant idea of all brilliant ideas.

The current problem to solve also had Remus at the centre of it. Namely, Sirius wondered how to get Remus to fall in love with him—or at the very least, how to get Remus to look at Sirius with that same embarrassed smile that he got whenever he saw Louis Parsons, the swotty Ravenclaw Remus euphemistically called his "revisions partner for runes." Sirius was sure they've revised, but he doubted it was Ancient Runes. Anatomy, perhaps.

And that's where all of this had started. Remus had been out late "revising," and Sirius had gone looking for him. He hadn't been trying to spy on Remus; he hadn't even realized there was anything to spy _on_. He'd simply noticed that Remus was out past curfew, and prefect's badge or no, being out past curfew was an easy way to get detention, and Remus hated getting detention. Sirius had wanted an excuse to stretch his legs anyway, so he'd "borrowed" James's cloak and set out to fetch Remus safely home.

Finding Remus and Parsons had been the easy part; Sirius had correctly guessed they would meet in one of the empty rooms between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw common rooms. And once he'd found the right room by spotting a line of light under the door, it had been only natural that Sirius had taken advantage of his invisible state to try to sneak up on and surprise his friend. It had been Sirius who'd gotten the surprise.

Sirius was willing to admit that he was as likely as anyone to ignore the obvious, especially when it was something one didn't wish to be true, and up until this point he'd been doing a masterful job of ignoring the obvious. Sirius found girls boring and uninteresting; it didn't mean a thing. He just preferred spending time with his much more interesting friends. Sirius occasionally caught himself watching his friends dress or undress; it didn't mean a thing. One can't help but notice nudity when sharing living quarters, and one _could_ have an aesthetic, objective appreciation of male beauty. 

But once he was confronted with the sight of two half-dressed teenage boys kissing and touching one another _there_ , had found that he couldn't stop watching as Parsons had stroked his hand up and down around Remus's cock, and had realized that _he_ wanted to know how Remus's cock would feel in his hand—how hot and hard would it feel against his palm?—it had become infinitely more difficult to ignore the obvious. When Parsons had urged Remus to stroke him faster, and Sirius realized that he wanted to know what Remus's hand would feel like on _him_ —would his calluses from full moon nights in the forest drag on Sirius's skin just perfectly too much?—it had became impossible to ignore the obvious. And when Remus had groaned, a deep, guttural sound that grabbed Sirius by the balls and nearly buckled his knees, Sirius had known that there was no going back into denial; girls could never sound like that.

So, now he faced the truth: he liked boys "that way." So far, his preference was only theoretical. If he was ever going to put theory into practice, Remus was the obvious choice. Remus was one of his best friends, he was rather attractive in a non-showy sort of way, and he obviously liked boys "that way." 

However, Sirius couldn't simply go up to Remus and say, "I like boys; you like boys. Why don't you dump Parsons, and let's go have some fun." For one thing, he'd have to explain _how_ he knew that Remus liked boys in general and Parsons in particular, and that was one conversation he'd rather avoid. He still felt vaguely disturbed about how long he'd watched before retreating. Wasn't it enough that he was bent? Was he a bloody voyeur too? And for another thing, Sirius doubted that Remus _would_ simply dump Louis Parsons. Remus wasn't callous enough to be a heartbreaker—not without good reason at least.

No. Sirius needed a first-class, "sweep him off his feet" seduction. He needed to convince Remus that Sirius was the only one for him. He wanted Remus to say, "Louis who?" and mean it.

Sirius knew that some would say that love potion was the solution, but Sirius knew better. He'd been the victim of a love potion last year, just before St. Valentine's Day. Silvania Satterly had thought it the perfect way of ensuring herself a date for Valentine's. Sirius's so-called "friends" had laughingly allowed him to behave like a lovesick prat for about a day before insisting that Silvania give him the antidote. No sooner did he stop adoring her than he began despising her for doing that to him. So, unless his ultimate goal was to make Remus never speak to him again, love potion was out. 

Sirius watched Remus working at the far end of a common room table, taking notes from his transfiguration text. Remus glanced up, saw Sirius looking at him, and smiled slightly before returning to his work. 

"Knut for your thoughts," Remus asked without looking up again.

"What?"

"You're staring; you must be thinking hard about something. Anything I can help with?" Remus glanced up again as he spoke, but only momentarily. He didn't seem to have any suspicion that he was the focus of Sirius's thoughts.

"No, I don't think so." Sirius smiled at the thought of asking Remus's help in planning his own seduction, but then, why not? "Actually..." Sirius pushed his books closer to Remus and shifted into the seat that James had abandoned in search of a better view of Evans—the pervy stalker. "May I ask you a hypothetical question?”

"All right," Remus said, giving Sirius his full attention at last.

"Suppose someone really liked someone, but that someone was dating someone else."

"Ah—so James has found out that Lily is going to Hogsmeade with Foster, has he?"

"No, he definitely has _not_." Sirius knew that he would have heard about it if James had known but, realizing that allowing Remus to think that he was discussing James instead of himself was a good tactic to take, he grinned and tried to pretend that he had known. "And he's going to be unbearable when he does find out."

"More than usual?"

"And teachers think you're the nice one."

"No, they think Peter is the nice one. So, go on, hypothetical question."

"Right. How could the first someone win over the second someone?"

"You aren't asking the question most people would ask," Remus pointed out. "Is it right for the first someone to even try? Maybe the second someone is very happy with whomever she's dating."

This was not the answer Sirius wanted. Since his accidental discovery that Remus liked boys and his near simultaneous epiphany that he did as well, he'd considered dating no one else. Remus was one of the _very_ few people Sirius cared about. And if he cared about Remus, and if he was attracted to Remus, and if Remus cared about him—he knew Remus did—and if Remus was attracted to him—Remus was attracted to boys, at least—then it just made sense. He was even Padfoot for Moony! What could Parsons offer to beat that? But if Remus's first thought was to raise this particular objection, then perhaps Remus's current relationship meant more to him than Sirius had thought.

"You don't think he should try then?"

"I didn't say that," Remus admitted. "It's not like he's trying to break up a marriage or anything; it's only their first date."

"So, all's fair in love or war?"

"I didn't say _that_ either," Remus said with a grin.

"Moony," Sirius whined. "Come on. Hypothetical Person A really likes Person B, but Person B is dating Person C. Can Person A do his damndest to win over Person B?"

Remus leaned back in his seat and combed his fingers through his hair. "Yes," he said decisively, "sort of."

Sirius folded his arms and glared at Remus for giving him such a confusing answer.

Remus shrugged and smiled placatingly. "Look, it's fair to try, but not anything goes. How's this for a guideline: Person A can do whatever he wants to convince Person B that he's the better choice, but can't do anything to sabotage Person C."

"You're contradicting yourself."

"I mean that Person A shouldn't do anything that affects Person C directly—no hexes, no curses, no spreading rumours about him, no insulting him in public—that sort of thing. Basically, everything that James—excuse me, Person A—ever did to Snape."

"Snape deserved all of it," Sirius pointed out, but Remus merely shrugged in reply. "What _is_ fair game?"

"Anything that Person B will like. Show her he's the better choice by _being_ the better choice. James is great—you know that; I know that—but he comes on too strong around Lily. Tell him not to try so hard, be himself."

"Be himself," Sirius repeated doubtfully. "It hasn't worked for him so far." Nor had it been working for Sirius. He'd never been anything other than himself around Remus, and Remus had chosen some swotty Ravenclaw instead. Of course, he'd never tried being the newly-realized, "Hi, I'm as bent as a broken wand" version of himself.

Remus laughed. "I never said he didn't need a lot of luck."

 _Luck._ Of course. Now Sirius knew what kind of magic would help. He merely waited for Remus to return to his work before he bolted up the stairs in search of it.

 

Sirius heard the dormitory door bang open behind him, but didn't pause in his ransacking of James's trunk.

"You'll never believe who Evans is—and what the hell are you looking for?" James demanded.

Sirius glanced back to make sure that James had entered the dormitory alone before answering. "That bottle of Felix Felicis we nicked from Sluggy."

"We're saving that," James groused as he began to collect his strewn possessions.

"We _were_ saving it until we came up with the perfect time to use it, and the perfect time is now."

"Why?" James asked petulantly. He shifted his belongings into his left arm and with his free hand opened the hidden compartment where several potion bottles were stored.

"Because," Sirius began to hold bottles up to the light so he could read the labels scrawled in James's messy hand, "a bit of luck is what you need to make sure Evans goes to Hogsmeade with you on Saturday instead of Foster." 

"Oh—you're brilliant," James breathed as he sank down on the foot of his bed. "I take back all the times I called you an idiotic cur with less brains than your fleas."

Sirius flourished the correct bottle triumphantly and grinned. "I got the idea from something Moony said, but we _aren't_ telling him about this." _That_ would spoil everything.

"Plausible deniability for the prefect," James agreed. 

They'd discovered that keeping Remus in the dark during the planning stages of a prank was the best solution to Remus's dilemma of conflicting loyalties to his friends and to his responsibility as a prefect. Sirius was more than willing to allow James to think that was why they were keeping Remus in the dark now.

"Do you think I should take it tonight or wait until tomorrow morning?" James asked. 

"No time like the present, but just a small sip now," Sirius said as he unscrewed the cap and handed over the bottle. "Just enough for a couple of hours luck. No use wasting your good luck on night time. You'll probably dream about her with or without it."

James sipped and then licked his lips. "Yeah, but with it, I won't wake up before the best part. Hey! What are you taking it for?"

Sirius _almost_ said, "For the same reason as you," but stopped himself in time. If he admitted that he was trying to win someone over, James would start paying attention to see who had caught Sirius's eye, and Sirius wasn't quite sure he was willing to risk James figuring it out yet. On the other hand, maybe this was the time to tell James. If luck was on Sirius's side, James wouldn't be able to hate him, would he? This was the moment to tell James, but Sirius still resisted. "I just need it, that's all," he said instead.

"You all right?" James asked, suddenly subdued and concerned. "Anything I can help with?"

Sirius fought down the temptation to tell the truth and shook his head resolutely.

James watched him carefully for a moment before nodding. "OK. Just remember, you can tell me anything, yeah?"

"Yeah." Sirius busied himself with replacing the potion bottles in the hidden compartment of James's trunk and made a half-hearted attempt to replace the other belongings he'd strewn about. Only when that was done did he take a deep breath and follow James down the stairs to the common room.

"Look what you've done, you idiot!" Evans shouted just as Sirius reached the foot of the stairs.

"I'm sorry; it was an accident," James apologised. "I was just trying to pass it to—"

"I know what you were _trying_ to do, Potter. You were trying to sit at this table so you could chat me up again. I'm sick of it. Can't you get that through your thick head? Or is it so full of Quidditch that nothing else penetrates?"

Sirius thought that a bit unfair, but since he was currently on the receiving end of a glare from James that clearly said, _"I hate you,"_ and _"I thought this was supposed to bring me_ good _luck,"_ Sirius didn't dare rush to James's defence. He opted instead to return to his seat near Remus.

Lily incanted a drying spell as she waved her wand at the wet spot on her robe. The wet sheen disappeared immediately

"He spilled ink on her," Remus whispered.

"That won't work," James said to Evans.

"It worked," she said angrily and resumed her seat at the table, her back to James.

"It looks like it did because it's invisible ink, but sooner or later the ink will reappear. It's persistent; it's got to be washed out with Mrs. Scower's, and the sooner the better. Take off your robe—" She glared at him over her shoulder, but James persisted. "Go upstairs, take off your robe, and bring it down here. I'll take it to the laundry and ask the house-elves to wash it right away."

Lily didn't move, but from where Sirius was sitting, he could see that she had pursed her lips the way McGonagall did when considering something—or was particularly annoyed.

"Please, Evans," James asked. "If it doesn't get washed right away, a stain will show up in a few weeks. Believe me, I know. I've got stains on half my robes from this stuff." When Lily still didn't move, he sighed. "Fine. When the stain does appear, just go to Gladrags and order a new robe. I'll tell them to put it on my account." 

Lily turned to glare again, and Sirius wondered what James had said wrong this time. He shouldn't _be_ saying the wrong things any more than he should be spilling ink! Why wasn't the luck potion working?

"I don't need you to buy me things, Potter," Lily snapped. "Not everyone is impressed by your immense bank account."

"I'm not trying to impress you," James snapped back. "If I ruin something, it's only right that I should replace it. And since _you_ are being stubborn, your robe is going to be ruined. Now, either you can let me bring your robe to the laundry, or you can let me buy you a new one. Your choice." And with that declaration, James grabbed his books from the end of the table where Lily was sitting and headed for the sofa where Peter was reading a textbook and pretending to be oblivious to the fight.

Remus glanced up from his textbooks at Sirius, a slight smile of amusement on his face. "So much for being himself," Remus whispered.

Sirius didn't smile back. If the potion had brought James such stupendously bad luck, what was it likely to do to him? He was almost afraid to speak to Remus for fear of saying the wrong thing, afraid to move for fear of doing the wrong thing. Could Slughorn have made the potion wrong?

"May I borrow your potions text?" he asked Remus and had it pushed toward him in reply. 

He was in the middle of reading the lengthy instructions for the brewing of Felix Felicis when Remus suddenly nudged him. He followed Remus's gaze to see Lily, now wearing a fuzzy green sweater and a tan skirt, clutching her robe and standing in front of James. 

"I'd take it down myself, but I don't know where the laundry is," she said quietly.

"I could show you," James offered immediately.

"Well, what do you know?" Remus said quietly as they watched them leave together. "If he doesn't blow it on the way, this could turn out to be the luckiest bad luck James has ever had."

* * * * *

Remus's prediction turned out to be true. As James gleefully recounted to the others in the dormitory later, they'd managed to go all the way to the laundry— _and back!_ —without getting into another spat. 

"I had this strong feeling that I should let her lead the conversation, so at first, I just kept my mouth shut except to answer her. Then on the way back, she finally realized that we were out past curfew, but we managed to avoid Filch so we didn't get caught."

"She would have been furious with you if you'd landed her in detention," Peter said.

"Sounds like you were lucky you didn't get caught," Sirius said with a smile, and James grinned back.

Sirius's results had not been as dramatic, but he did note that Remus had sat behind him on James's bed to hear James's story. He could feel Remus's breath on the side of his neck and wondered if he leaned back slightly, his shoulder against Remus's chest, would Remus move away? He hoped his borrowed luck would hold and tried. Remus didn't move away, but Sirius felt the warm breath cease briefly. Only when Remus breathed again did Sirius glance over his shoulder and smile at the other boy.

Remus's eyes were dark, dilated in the shadows of the bed curtains, and he seemed unable to stop staring at Sirius. Sirius looked away first, glancing at James and Peter to ensure that they had noticed nothing; they had not. Then Sirius noticed how close Remus's hand was to his own on the bed. He only had to shift it a few inches to the left to lay his own fingers atop Remus's. He felt Remus's breath catch again—just before a sudden movement by James caused Remus to snatch his hand away.

Sirius's borrowed luck held through their bedtime preparations. Remus, who hated mornings, preferred showering in the evenings. Sirius generally preferred showering in the mornings—it helped him wake up—unless Quidditch practice or a particularly vile detention made an evening one necessary. Tonight he decided that he wanted a shower. Without even trying to time it correctly, Sirius was lucky enough to walk into the bathroom just as Remus emerged dripping wet from the shower in search of his towel.

"Looking for this?" Sirius asked as he lifted the towel down from a peg and held it out to Remus. Remus stammered a probable thank-you and began drying off rapidly. He had turned away without making a fuss about it, but Sirius didn't mind. He was afforded a lovely view of Remus's back—he enjoyed watching the way the muscles of Remus's back and arms moved as Remus wiped the towel over his skin—and of Remus's arse and legs—Sirius hands itched to touch the hard muscles there. Best of all, with his back turned, Remus couldn't catch Sirius staring.

Sirius had a feeling that Remus might not mind an opportunity to do a bit of reciprocal ogling, so he began to prattle on about their various classes—to keep Remus from leaving—while he undressed. It had occurred to him that this was one of best weapons he had in his arsenal; he was better looking than Parsons. Parsons wasn't _bad_ , but he didn't have the muscle definition that hours of clinging to a broomstick and swinging a beater's bat had given Sirius. Now he just had to keep Remus in the room long enough that Remus would know it too. By the time Remus scampered, Sirius was sure that he'd given Remus ample opportunity to see what he was missing.

* * * * *

Sirius delayed as long as possible as he readied himself for breakfast and classes the next morning. James, repacking his bag for the third time that morning, was obviously doing the same. Fortunately, neither Peter nor Remus seemed to notice. 

Remus put the strap of his own bag over his shoulder and looked over at Sirius. "Are you coming?" 

"You two go on ahead," Sirius replied. "James and I will catch you up." Only once the sound of their friends' footsteps on the stairs had died away did James throw open his trunk and find the bottle of Felix Felicis. 

"Bonne chance," James toasted before taking a large swig of the potion and handing the bottle to Sirius. "I hope this works. Hogsmeade is tomorrow."

"Here's to Foster coming down with the flu," Sirius agreed as he handed the bottle back. He was certain that today was the day. He'd felt hopeful last night, but it had been overlaid with anxieties. This time, he _knew_ the potion would work. If a few hours of borrowed luck had given him an illicit cuddle, a chance to appreciate Remus wearing nothing but a sheen of water, and a chance to show off his own fine form to Remus, then an entire day of good luck should have them falling into each other's arms by nightfall.

 

As the day progressed, Sirius found it quite amusing how many different ways a bit of good luck could make one's day more pleasant. A fresh platter of hot, buttery toast appeared on the table right in front of James just as they sat down to breakfast. Sirius had only read half of the assigned reading for Transfiguration, but when McGonagall called on Sirius, she asked a question for which he knew the answer. James passed him a note during her lesson—something they hadn't dared try under McGonagall's nose since second year—but they didn't get caught. Lunch consisted of several of their favourite foods. In their Potions practical, Sirius had a hunch that he should crush his sopophorous bean rather than slicing it. He did the same to Remus's bean, muttering, "Trust me," at Remus's doubtful look. When Slughorn praised the "excellent colour and consistency" of their potions at the end of the lesson, Sirius didn't know which he enjoyed more: the way Remus smiled or the way Snape glared. 

Unfortunately, the only way in which the Felix Felicis didn't seem to help Sirius and James was with their love lives. During supper—Sirius's beloved steak and kidney pie followed by one of James's favourites, flan—James overheard Lily telling her friends that she was meeting Foster in the library after supper. Remus simply disappeared after supper without a word of explanation, but Sirius noticed Parsons leaving the Great Hall as well.

When James glumly suggested going out for a fly over the forest, Sirius was more than willing to agree.

* * * * *

One hour and one unicorn sighting later—a very rare and _fortunate_ occurrence—James and Sirius returned to the castle with their broomsticks over their shoulders. Curfew hadn't begun yet, but even if it had, Sirius wouldn't have worried. He knew that they wouldn't get caught today. 

"Maybe I should give up," James said unexpectedly. "If she doesn't come around today, maybe it isn't supposed to happen.

"You can't give up now," Sirius said. Perhaps it was just being in this particular plot together, but Sirius felt that James's success—or lack thereof—with Evans was bound up with his own attempt to win over Remus. He wasn't ready to give up yet, so James shouldn't either.

"But everything that happens to me today is supposed to be good luck, even if I can't see it. Like spilling the ink on Lily last night. I didn't know it was good luck when it happened, but it was. Maybe Lily dating Foster is supposed to be good luck somehow. Maybe I'm not supposed to date her. Maybe I'm supposed to stop beating my head against a brick wall."

Sirius had given James exactly that advice on numerous occasions, so he was tempted to agree. On the other hand, he had barely begun trying to win over Remus, so he wasn't about to surrender just because Remus had gone off to "revise" with Parsons.

"Or maybe Lily having an argument with Foster and calling off their date tomorrow even as we speak," Sirius said. He certainly hoped that's what was going on between Remus and Parsons.

"Maybe," James said, but he didn't sound as if he believed it. "Can we stop by Greenhouse Six? I should check on my fanged geranium cuttings."

The greenhouses were only a short detour, and Sirius really didn't want to sit in the Common Room glancing at his watch and wondering what time Remus would return, so he was more than glad to agree.

The distinctive scent of the greenhouse, a mix of dragon dung compost and a myriad of magical plants, billowed out in a wave of warm moist air when James opened the door and stepped inside. Only a few lamps were burning, but even the meagre light was sufficient for Sirius to see Snape—a few seconds too late to prevent James from colliding with him. Only Sirius's quick action, grabbing James's arm, prevented James from falling on top of Snape. Snape had not been so lucky and had been knocked back into one of the long wooden tables holding rows of potted student projects. Sirius would have preferred seeing Snape land on the ground, but colliding with the table would probably leave a bruise.

"I'm so sorry—totally my fault," James quickly said, and he even extended a hand out as if to help the Slytherin.

"Idiot clod," Snape muttered, and wiping dirt from his robe, he shouldered his way past Sirius and James to exit the greenhouse.

James turned toward Sirius, and Sirius immediately saw the cause of the accident; James's glasses were fogged from the moist greenhouse air. It happened every time the speccy git went straight from the cold into the greenhouse. "Was that—" James started to ask.

Sirius interrupted him with a curt, "Yes." He'd just spotted Lily and Foster apparently working on their own herbology projects, and Lily was watching the happenings near the door with great interest. She'd often told James and Sirius that they should be nicer to Snape, so Sirius wasn't about to let her discover that James had only been civil because he'd been too blind to see Snape, let alone recognise him. "Hello, Lily. Foster," he said as he waggled his fingers in a mockery of a greeting.

"Following us, Potter?" Lily asked archly.

"Actually, I thought you were in the library," James replied as he dried his glasses with a handkerchief. "Didn't you say something about the library at supper?"

Lily didn't reply, but she did purse her lips and return to her work.

"But don't worry, Evans," James said as he lifted the lid off a rain barrel and filled a watering can. "As soon as I finish watering these cuttings, we'll leave you and Foster alone to—whatever it is you were planning to do in here."

"Don't be crude, Potter," she snapped.

"No, crude would have been if he'd said you were planning to shag here on this table," Sirius pointed out. "I wouldn't recommend it though; might get splinters in your pretty little arse."

* * * * *

As Sirius reflected later, duelling against Evans was never to be recommended—at least not if James was supposedly on your side. James's bizarre sense of chivalry prevented him from using any spell stronger than a tickling charm. Evans, on the other hand, didn't pull her punches. Yet, if one had to exchange hexes with anyone, doing so while under the influence of Felix Felicis was an exhilarating experience. Every move he made was the right one; not a single curse struck him or James. 

Foster hadn't been quite as lucky. In his attempt to "protect" Lily, he'd only managed to get in the way of a hex she'd aimed at James. Sirius rather liked the dinner plate sized ears she'd given him. Foster didn't seem pleased that she couldn't reverse the hex and wasn't speaking to her when they headed off to the hospital wing. James, recognizing an opportunity when he saw one, had followed at a discrete distance, ready to "confess" to the crime and—hopefully—earn Lily's gratitude by taking the blame in her place. 

Felix was still working its twisted magic. And yet—Remus was still not back from "revising" with Parsons. Sirius knew that he had luck on his side, but how much good could luck do him if Remus wasn't even around to be seduced?

Sirius considered going in search of his friend—he had a hunch that he'd find them in the same room as last time—but quickly rejected the idea. He knew he'd be tempted to spy on them again, and he didn't want to make a habit of _that_. He didn't want to watch Remus with someone else; he wanted to be the one with Remus.

Maybe he just needed a bit more luck.

The bottle only had one sip left. Sirius suspected James would want to have it tomorrow—they'd probably taken Foster out of the picture but they still needed to convince Lily that James should take her to Hogsmeade—but, Sirius thought his need was greater.

"All's fair in love and war, James," he said by way of a toast.

"What _is_ that?" Remus demanded before Sirius could drink. He quickly crossed the room from the doorway and took the bottle out of Sirius's hands.

"Felix Felicis? It's almost empty. How much of this have you had? You know this stuff is dangerous if taken too often."

"I only had a little."

"And why are you apologizing to James? Oh lord, don't tell me you've fallen for Lily too."

"The red-haired she-devil? Definitely not."

"Good, because you _know_ how he feels about her," Remus said warningly.

"I know; I know; _believe me_ , I know." He'd heard about her often enough from James. 

Remus had pocketed the Felix Felicis, but Sirius didn't mind. He'd only been tempted to take more so he could get an opportunity to be alone with Remus. Well, now he was alone with Remus. He just needed to figure out what to do next. Sitting on a bed seemed like a good start.

Remus seemed to consider for a moment, and then he sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Sirius sympathetically. "It's all right if you do fancy her. You can't help how you feel. And I promise not to say anything to James."

"It's _not_ Lily. All right?"

"All right," Remus said placatingly. Suddenly his eyes widened, and he glanced away. "Um—this 'someone' you fancy, is it—I mean it would be fine with me if it was—more than fine—if it's—James?"

"James?" Sirius repeated in surprise.

"Well, some boys do prefer boys, you know," Remus said quickly. He wouldn't look at Sirius anymore and began to fiddle with the edge of the bed curtains.

"It's not James," Sirius said firmly, "but it is a boy." Remus looked back at Sirius in surprise. 

This wasn't going at all the way Sirius had hoped. He was supposed to be sweeping Remus off his feet—figuratively speaking of course; Remus wouldn't appreciate it literally—not merely _telling_ Remus that he fancied him.

Right. Time to start seducing then.

Sirius quickly conjured a few floating candles and then extinguished the burning lamps which ringed the dormitory.

"What are you doing?" Remus asked.

Music. Sirius couldn't think of a spell to conjure music, but then he remembered the magical music box Remus had in his trunk. 

"Really, Sirius, what are you doing?" Remus demanded again when Sirius opened his trunk and began searching through it.

"Looking for your music box."

"The one that plays lullabies?"

Sirius paused in his search and rocked back on his heels. "Lullabies?" That didn't sound too appropriate for seduction.

"Yes," Remus said, and he sounded distinctly annoyed. "My mother recorded herself singing songs she used to sing to me when I was little—in case I got homesick first year."

"But you still have it. You don't get homesick anymore, do you?" Sirius certainly didn't get homesick, but he could understand the concept. He certainly used to miss school when he was at home—back when he called his parents' house home. 

"No. I don't listen to it anymore. I just—have it." Even in the candlelight, Sirius could see that Remus was blushing while he straightened his belongings and closed the lid of his trunk. This was going all wrong; he hadn't meant to embarrass Remus.

"I'm going down to the common room," Remus announced. "I have work to do, and you've apparently decided to forego light here in the dormitory."

Sirius stopped Remus by grabbing his arm. "Please stay." He stroked his thumb over Remus's bicep and heard Remus's breath catch. 

Yes, this was the way to proceed. Remus was attracted to boys; Sirius was a rather fit and attractive boy—even if he did say so himself—therefore, Remus would be attracted to him. He just had to give Remus the opportunity to appreciate what he could have. He stepped closer and nuzzled his cheek against Remus's.

"What are you doing?" Remus whispered.

Sirius kissed Remus's cheekbone—"If you don't know,"—then the hollow of his cheek—"then I'm not,"—and the corner of Remus's mouth—"doing it very well."

"But—" 

When Remus's lips parted to speak, Sirius didn't miss his opportunity for a more convincing kiss, capturing Remus's lower lip and sucking on it slightly, swiping Remus's tongue with his own. It wasn't what he'd imagined kissing Remus would be like; Remus was a more passive recipient than he'd imagined, but perhaps that was because Remus was still dealing with his surprise at being kissed by Sirius. But it was still _wonderful_. Sirius felt a strange tingle all the way down his spine straight to his groin. He skin felt sensitized, and as thrilling as the press of Remus's body against his own was, he longed to feel it without clothing in the way.

The sound of two or three younger boys noisily coming up the stairs startled Remus, but Sirius had too firm a grip on Remus for him to retreat more than a step. A quick flick of Sirius's wand shut the dormitory door; another twist locked it. Remus put his fingertips against Sirius's chest as if he meant to push him away but couldn't quite follow through on it. Sirius decided there were better things those fingers could be doing and tried to provide inspiration by unbuttoning Remus's robe.

"Don't. Stop," Remus said as covered Sirius's hands with his own, stilling them. "We shouldn't."

"Don't stop? Excellent idea," Sirius said with a grin, but it felt forced. Remus didn't want him. He let his hands fall away from Remus's buttons. He knew he should step away, but stepped forward instead and buried his face in the hollow of Remus's shoulder, grasping fistfuls of robes at Remus's sides. "Why not?" he asked plaintively. "Because of Parsons?"

Sirius felt Remus's arm partially encircle his back and Remus's fingers comb through his hair. 

"You knew?" 

Sirius nodded. 

"Do James and Peter know?" 

He shook his head. The fingers continued their stroking and Sirius felt emboldened to kiss Remus's throat—just a small brush of the lips—hardly noticeable perhaps.

He felt Remus's breath catch again and his arm tighten, so he kissed again.

"No, not Parsons. We had a fight tonight actually."

"Really?" Sirius's hopes rose. He'd hoped for that but, he hadn't _really_ expected it.

"Yes, and I can feel you grinning, you know."

Sirius looked up at Remus and tried to school his features into something a bit more appropriate for "being sympathetic when hearing of best friend's romantic woes."

"Want to tell me about it?" 

Remus laughed slightly. "No, definitely not."

As happy as Sirius was that Parsons was apparently not an obstacle, he was well aware that this meant that Remus was rejecting him for reasons that obviously had to do with Sirius himself. He knew that he should let go of Remus; he knew that he should be walking away, but his body wouldn't obey his mind. He kept clinging to Remus, waiting for Remus to push him away. Remus's body didn't seem to be any more sensible. He continued to hold Sirius and occasionally touch his hair. In fact—Sirius shifted his leg slightly to be sure, and yes—according to a certain firm bulge in Remus's trousers, Remus's body was enjoying this contact quite as much as Sirius's. 

Unfortunately, that shift and rub seemed to be too much for Remus, and he finally pushed them apart, gently but firmly. Remus relit the wall sconces and then sat on the edge of his own bed.

"Why not me then?" Sirius brought himself to ask. A small crease appeared between Remus's eyebrows and Sirius wanted to smooth it away with his thumb. He sat on his own bed to keep from doing anything stupid.

"Because it would make things awkward between us," Remus replied. "You're my friend, and that matters to me; I wouldn't want to mess that up."

Sirius didn't think it would make things awkward; it would only make things better. Being friends meant that they cared about one another, and in an ideal world, weren't you _supposed_ to care about your lover? Sirius could understand if they were talking about someone else—James for example, but only because James was so bloody straight. If Sirius were to talk him into getting off together—much alcohol would probably be required—things would be awkward afterward because James wouldn't ever be able to look him in the eye again.

"But it's not 'awkward' with Parsons," Sirius said. He knew it sounded petulant, but at the moment, he didn't care.

"Yes, it _is_ awkward with him. That's my point. Look, " Remus shifted further back onto the bed and slouched against the pillow, "tonight, he and I had this stupid fight—" Remus paused as if considering how much to tell Sirius. "A stupid fight because he wanted to do more than I did, and he took it too personally. I just wasn't ready, but he turned into me not wanting to with _him_."

"I wouldn't make you do anything you didn't want to do," Sirius pointed out. Definitely not. Considering that Remus was the far more experienced when it came to 'doing things with boys,' Sirius would be playing catch up at first.

Remus got the twisted smile he always got when he tried not to grin. "Padfoot, you _always_ talk me into doing things I don't want to do."

"But—"

Remus forestalled his objection with a gesture of his hand. "I know; this is different, and I know you wouldn't."

"But then—"

"My point is," Remus raised his voice to interrupt, "when things go all to hell with Louis, all I've lost is a revisions partner. I'm not willing to risk losing a friend."

"You wouldn't," Sirius said firmly, but he wondered how to prove that to Remus.

"Well, I'm not willing to risk it just because you want a quick tumble to help you get over your broken heart," Remus said briskly. He took his History of Magic textbook off his bedside table while he spoke and opened it with an air of finality. "Who is he anyway, your 'someone who's dating someone else'?" Remus asked without looking up from his book, but Sirius could see that he was staring at the page too fixedly to really be reading.

Now Sirius understood. He closed Remus's book and put it back on the table, seating himself where it had lain on the bed in the curve of Remus's body. "You really are dense sometimes," he said fondly, placing one hand on Remus's hip and tipping up Remus's chin with the other. "Aren't you, Moony?" 

When he kissed Remus this time, Remus was still just as reluctant to open to him, but when he did, Remus suddenly became more confident. His tongue moved against Sirius's with a velvety drag, causing Sirius to feel a buzzing tingle in the small of his back of all the bizarre places. Remus rolled onto his back, pulling Sirius with him, but Sirius's position was awkward, his torso pressed against Remus, but his hips still twisted away and his feet on the floor. Trying to get more comfortable without either ending the kiss or seriously damaging Remus, he became self-consciously aware of knees and elbows. Remus sensed his dilemma and simply shifted over to make room. He also switched to kissing and sucking on Sirius's throat, freeing Sirius to see what he was doing—and what he saw were the buttons he'd begun to undo earlier.

This time, he asked, "May I?" when he began to unfasten them.

Remus suddenly twisted away, but Sirius's panic that he'd gone too far was only momentary. Remus seemed to be trying to remove something from the pocket trapped between his hip and the bed.

"Powerful stuff," Remus said with a thoughtful smile when he saw the small bottle of Felix Felicis. "I didn't even drink it, and it brought me good luck."

Sirius smiled back and hooked his leg across Remus's. "Then perhaps we should take advantage of this empty dormitory while our luck holds."

 

_—Written December 2007_

**Author's Note:**

> This story proved a challenge to me in that I didn't want things to be too easy for Sirius, but Felix Felicis, by definition, should smooth the way for him with good luck. I noticed that when Harry used Felix in HBP, much of his good luck comes in the form of having hunches (inspired by the potion) and then acting on them because he's confident that the potion won't steer him wrong. So, I tried to give Sirius good luck when he followed his feelings or acted without thinking. It's when Sirius overrules his hunches that things don't work out.


End file.
